Search This Blog

Caterpillar Life

These guys are infesting Seattle right now, but they sure are cute. They spend weeks munching away, molting, and building (rather unsightly) communal cobweb tents for shelter. When they're good and fed, they spin a cocoon, turn into fuzzy brown moths, and live for just a couple more days, long enough to mate and lay eggs.

Sometimes, as a writer, I'm impatient to be a butterfly (read: be published and please readers). These guys are a good reminder that sometimes caterpillar life is where it's at.

Friends, wishing you a happy day!

Get link

Facebook

Twitter

Pinterest

Email

Other Apps

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I hope this message finds you well and enjoying your summer. It's been an incredibly busy time for my family. We've traveled, hosted beloved guests, celebrated the end of school, and attended several fun-filled events. In fact, our frenzied pace doesn't show signs of slowing any time soon. I'm writing now from the skies, on my way to Santa Fe to celebrate my mother's 70th birthday. One of a few more celebratory trips scheduled for the next month.

In between the big shiny happenings of the summer, I've been revising a novel, helping friends with their writing projects, and considering next steps in my own creative career. Not all of this has been easy.

You might remember that I signed with my first agent in March 2017. It was a thrilling and joyous experience. I'm still grateful for the energy and hope that opportunity sparked. Unfortunately, our relationship didn't work out and I chose to terminate my contract this past week. It was a difficul…

As summer winds to a close, our beloved Pacific Northwest is blanketed in a thick cloud of wildfire smoke. The skies are grey and hazy. The Seattle skyline is a ghost of its former self. The mountains have vanished. Normally this time of year is all blue skies and beach time. We wait patiently through months of mist and rain for our precious summer months. Not this year.

Forgive me some theatrics, but I can't help feeling like there's something very wrong, something wicked on the wind. Probably this is more to do with my latest mood and work than anything else, and yet...

I recently wrote my first horror piece, a short story titled "Flowers for Gretel Gideon", that will hopefully be published in a Sirens benefit anthology in the coming months. It was surprisingly easy to write and cathartic to share with some of my beta readers (thank you!). More on that when I have info.

I've also been working on revising a pre-apocalyptic novel about the slow drown…

Dark times call for dark stories. The news cycle has been atrocious lately and I've been in a health funk. Rather than battling off the darkness with sunshine and flowers and decorative gourds, I've decided to sink in. I'm going to spend my October cozied up with gruesome tales of terror and see what comes of it. After all, the veil is thinning...

But yeah, okay, there will still be decorative gourds. And dahlias. I mean, I'm not gonna skip out on dahlias just because our government is full of creeps.

Right on time for this spooky season, the latest Sirens anthology Rebels & Revenants just arrived in the mail.

My story, "Flowers for Gretel Gideon", is about motherhood, rage, and resentment.

It's the darkest stuff I've ever written, and as I posted elsewhere, I'm worried about sharing it. But also? Fuck it. (Told you I'm in a mood.) We need more stories about mothers and motherhood and the absurd expectations we have for women.